


Peace

by moritzcohen (dystopiceyre)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:20:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dystopiceyre/pseuds/moritzcohen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre had a bad day, Courfeyrac makes it better</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr, link at the bottom  
> Unedited and unbeta'd, constructive criticism is always appreciated!

"Urrgh," Combeferre moaned, slamming the apartment door.

"Rough day?" asked Courfeyrac, looking up from his laptop.

"You have no idea, Courf. Complete and utter shit."

Courfeyrac’s brow wrinkled in concern. “Here, sit down. I’ll make some tea and then you can tell me all about it.”

Combeferre threw himself onto the couch, burying his face in a pillow. He could hear his boyfriend clattering around in the kitchen getting his tea ready. He was absent mindedly humming some children’s song; a calming presence.

 _If nothing else, at least I have him in my life_  Combeferre thought.

"Here you go,  _mon ange,”_ said Courfeyrac, handing him a cup.

"Thanks, but I’m not feeling very angelic today," Combeferre muttered into his drink. "Do you think Enjolras would kick me out of Les Amis if I committed mass murders around Paris?"

Courfeyrac laughed, sitting down and pulling Combeferre closer to him. “Probably so. Serial killing is far too American of an activity for Monsieur Patria to approve of it. But if you tell me about what happened we can commit the murders together.”

"Okay, so you know that paper I was working on for my civics class?"

Courfeyrac nodded in assent. “What about it?”

"Well, for one the buses were running late this morning, so I was tardy to class, which Professeur Javert docks off points for. Then when I was turning in my essay, I realized I had brought the wrong copy. The one I turned in was the rough draft that Grantaire and I had edited together. That  _morceau de merde_ had written a bunch of shall we say, less than appropriate comments and doodles on it. Several of which insulted Professeur Javert, and you know how he is with his pride.”

"I am the law, and the law is not mocked," Courfeyrac quoted.

” _Oui, exactement._ I flushed so red when he looked at me, I’d put Enjolras’ favorite vest to shame.” 

"That is indeed a very bad day," said Courfeyrac.

"Oh, no, that’s not the half of it," Combeferre continued. "I also ripped through the knee of my new jeans, left my cell on the bus home,  _and_  was unable to secure the permits for our rally next week. Enj is going to  _kill_  me. I’m a fucking failure.”

"You are  _not_  a failure, you just had a really rough day,  _mon_   _cher_.”

 _”_ Yeah, well I just want to hide in my room and not come out for a hundred years,” said Combeferre. 

"Wow, I haven’t heard a speech that dramatic since Marius first met Cosette." Courf teased, earning him a rough elbow in his rib cage. "Know what would make you feel better?" he asked.

Combeferre wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No, not  _that_. I mean, later, maybe. But I was thinking we could do something fun, maybe something we haven’t done in a while.”

"I’m not really in the mood to go out, Courf."

"I was thinking something a little more intimate. I could read to you if you’d like?"

"Read to me? The only books we have in the apartment are for school. As much as I love Thoreau,  _Civil Disobedience_ isn’t exactly a bedtime story.”

"Well lucky for you, I have some old childhood classics stashed under my bed," said Courf.

Combeferre perked up at this proposition. “What kind of classics?”

"Oh you know, the usual kid favorites. Harry Potter,  _Le Petit Prince,_ The Hobbit…”

"Oh, definitely The Hobbit. It was my favorite growing up. You know, the hobbit-folk kind of remind me of you, all short and curly haired," said Ferre, ruffling his boyfriends mess of curls.

"Great, I’ll go grab it then," said Courf. When he returned, he snuggled up next to his boyfriend and began reading.

“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort…”

Ferre let out a sigh of contentment, closing his eyes to see the image the words painted in his mind. The frustration of his day was washed away in the tide of Courf’s voice.

When he was done reading the chapter, Courf glanced down at his boyfriend. He was dead asleep. He pressed a tender kiss to Combeferre’s forehead, enjoying the quiet peace the moment held.

 _"Je t’aime,_ Ferre,” he whispered.

Though he got no answer back from the slumbering figure, he knew the sentiment was echoed.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr here: http://dystopiceyre.tumblr.com/post/112549081638/how-about-peace-for-ferre-courf-if-youd-like  
> Requested by tumblr used redfeathered


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